Paligenesis
for me was as difficult
as giving birth the first time
A lexical nativity that was
pure and faultless
as the cleanliness of
my own spirit dies to
live as....

I had bore witness to words
that eye could write
and they were accentually -- syllabic
they were
deep ... they came alive on the
page and breathed 9 lives
back into me
this poetical language I played
with until the age of 29
and I reared it
as it developed me
like a post modern sunset
that draws shadows
just beneath the sky....

I turned thirty and questioned
my own ability to perfect the
imperfections of rudimentary poetry
... the words stopped breathing
life into me, the proses ceased
to grow and receded to their
infancy

Retraction, retreating
withdrawn from believing
that my text and I
had been divided by the spaces
between each letter...

We no longer were a
union that would
think similar thoughts
or view the same sameness as
satisfaction savored the
guilty thoughts
of literary works that
flee from my sight

And when I have trouble
writing or when I am
plagued by that thing
called writer's block

I know it is because
my words and I have
been separated
... Separated at verse

i feel u deep inside
yet poetic vibe reside
at some point we get in a myth of
lost play and wordz get in da way
of our true meannings yet we all
find away back on canvas
and flow poetry in motion
one must say !
u
R
a rare jewel N2 da soul

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